When I reflect on my life with Stu, and then the last seven months without him, so many things come to mind. His heart, dreams, and accomplishments — but also the void he left. Don’t get me wrong: He could be a serious pain at times! He was incredibly determined and rarely swayed once he had a vision in mind. Yet that same determination was matched by deep passion and compassion.
Stu was a man whose quiet strength carried our family through some of the hardest seasons imaginable, whose off the wall humor lifted my spirits and all those around him, and whose intellect was never a burden or barrier, but always a gift he used to help others. He never sat still, continually thinking of ways to better our community, our church, our lives, and the lives of those around him.
We walked together through losses no parent should ever face. Three of our children went to heaven far sooner than we ever dreamed and I watched Stu wrestle with grief in ways that words will never be able to fully express. He carried so much pain, yet he remained strong and steadfast to allow me and the girls to grieve, and he never lost faith – fully leaning on and trusting in God.
Stu felt a deep calling not only to share our story, but to use it to bring healing to others. He felt God leading us to write a book about our lives — about the heartbreak we endured, the faith we found, and the hope that carried us. His dream didn’t stop there. He wanted to create a peaceful retreat for parents who have lost children — a place where grieving hearts could rest, be understood, and find comfort. With faith and God’s guidance, I will carry his dream forward and see it fulfilled.
Stu also had a tremendous heart for helping others pursue their purpose and dreams. He loved supporting start-up companies, non-profits, and those with a mission to serve and strengthen their communities. Whether offering guidance, encouragement, or simply believing in someone’s dream when they doubted it themselves, Stu had a way of lifting people up. He saw potential in others and wanted to help them succeed, not for his recognition, but because he genuinely wanted to help them make the world better through their work and dreams.
Humor was one of Stu’s greatest gifts. Even in the darkest moments, he could find a way to bring a smile, lighten the heaviness, or make someone laugh when they needed it most. His quick wit, playful spirit, and perfectly timed jokes were more than just personality traits. Anyone who knew him understood why I called him the King of Puns. It was one of the ways he brought light into the lives of everyone around him and probably the one thing I will miss the most.
He also had a deep love and gift for photography. Behind the lens, he found a quiet joy — capturing moments, emotions, and the beauty that others might overlook. He had a gift for turning ordinary scenes into something meaningful. His photos were more than images; they were reflections of his heart and the beauty God created, and I am thankful I have so many that I am able to hang in my house.
On May 17, when Stu went home to be with the Lord, the world lost a good man — one who lived honestly, loved deeply, and served quietly – and I lost my consummate companion. He wasn’t perfect by any means, and he could absolutely drive me crazy, but his love for me and our family was deep and unwavering.
What comforts my heart is knowing he left behind more than memories. He left a legacy of kindness, of faith, of helping others find light in their darkest moments, to know the love of Jesus and to know that our final resting place is eternal. He truly left this world better than he found it. Walking beside him was one of God’s greatest gifts to me, and I will carry his dreams forward, continuing the vision God placed in his heart.
